


like that, he taunted

by lady__sansa_stark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Rough fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 05:29:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady__sansa_stark/pseuds/lady__sansa_stark
Summary: "“Like that?” Petyr taunted.Sansa rolled her hips against his fingers, desperate to relieve this aching need thatpulsed too far away. That demanded more more more.That cursed this man for always denying her what she needed. At least, until Petyr made herbegfor it."





	like that, he taunted

**Author's Note:**

> Ficlet for an anon on tumblr who gave me the started, "Like that?"
> 
> [It’s longer than I thought - and unedited - and I really hope you like it!!! :D ]
> 
> [EDIT: I wrote a prequel because I gave in to peer pressure: "[like that, she asked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805326)"]

               “Like that?” Petyr taunted.

               Sansa rolled her hips against his fingers, desperate to relieve this aching need that pulsed _too far away_ . That demanded _more more more_.

               That cursed this man for always denying her what she needed. At least, until Petyr made her _beg_ for it.

               His smile - already crooked - twisted into something worse. Something that Sansa wasn’t unfamiliar with. “I’m sorry, sweetling, but if you want something else, you’ll need to tell me.”

               She let a sarcastic laugh escape through her nose. Rolled her eyes, too, for good measure. Petyr only let his smile widen - something she knew he didn’t show anyone else. She had seen the way he acted around Lysa, a mask. A false Petyr that did what was expected.

               Or the way she could undo him. Sansa learned that pretty quickly - how his eyes would always find hers during family gatherings. How he made sure to pile alcohol into his wife before sidling up to Sansa, letting his fingers brush against her arm or thigh. _Accidental touches_ , she told herself at first. He was just curious about her, just trying to make her feel warm when her own aunt didn’t.

               But the kiss… _That_ wasn’t an accident at all. Especially not when he slipped his tongue between her lips.

               And look how far they’ve come since then?

 _If_ Sansa could tell him what she wanted right now, she’d tell him to _hurry the fuck up_.

               A pity he’d gagged her with her own underwear. (Silken things that he’d oh-so-generously bought her. Likely with this intention in mind. At least it would survive a bit of saliva, unlike the pair he unceremoniously ripped from her just before dipping his tongue deep into her clit). And a pity her hands were tied to the bed posts - else she would have _shown_ him exactly what she wanted.

               He wanted control. _Lusted_ after it, really. And Sansa couldn’t deny how sweet he could make her feel when she succumbed to his will. “More,” she said, though it came out muffled. Her jaw was getting sore. Her hips working tirelessly for an release that was a long ways away (she was still dressed from the waist up, after all).

               Petyr removed his fingers to her dismay, tasting each one. Watched as Sansa watched his tongue lap over the need that coated his skin. Watched fervently as Sansa focused on how dextrous his tongue was savoring the errant drops in the web between his fingers.

               “What was that, Sansa? I can’t hear you. You’ll need to speak up.”

               Through the gag, Sansa said, “Just fuck me already, I _need_ you.” Moved her hips against air to make a point of _what_ exactly she wanted.

               Petyr _tsk_ ed at her. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” As if he just _knew_ . What she wanted. Of course he did - ever since that stolen kiss in the dark, ever since he first touched her, tasted her. Petyr _always_ knew what she wanted.

               He worked his belt free slowly, agonizingly. Sansa could see the heavy silhouette of his cock straining against the fabric - good to know she was having the same effect on him.

               “Please,” she begged.

               “If you insist.”

               Only when he freed his cock, stroking it once, twice, he didn’t sink it into her core. No, he removed the panties from her mouth (carefully, working her jaw to keep it from locking up), and straddled his legs on either side of her head. Guided the tip of him to her lips, tracing them.

               She licked the tip, the bitter salt of his pre-come. Lapped around the head with slow strokes. Kiss the very tip, softly, staring up at him through lashes. He was so close - she couldn’t help but smile against him.

               When Petyr tangled his hands in her hair, one on either side, Sansa knew what he was going to say. Couldn’t deny the pulse in her core as he said, “I’m going to fuck your pretty little mouth, and then you’re going to swallow all of me. Understood?”

               She nodded.

               And he did - letting her adjust to him with the first slow strokes. But Sansa’s jaw was already prepared for the size of him, for the eventual brutality of his thrusts. She gagged as he pulled her head closer into him - the sound of it vile, wicked. Her nose brushed against base of him. Still, he would not relent. The bed shook violently beneath them, the bedposts hitting the wall in tune with Petyr’s fucking.

               Sansa love it - _this_. How they could completely lose themselves in each other. How there weren’t boundaries that neither of them were afraid to cross. Limitations were set, yes, and safe words fully understood. But this, this basic, animalist instinct to rut with abandon. She fucking loved it.

               Loved him.

               “ _Fuck._ ” It came out breathy. Sansa felt his cock swell before the hot strands of his come filled her mouth, hit the back of her throat. She continued working his mouth over the length of him, draining every last bit of his seed from him, like he has shown her all those nights ago. Was that the night Lysa almost caught them? When Petyr had thrown the blanket over Sansa but told her _Don’t stop_. Making casual conversation with his wife as his own niece sucked his cock.

               Sansa had been so wet, she didn’t last long before she came.

               Silence filled the room, in which Sansa felt her own heartbeat just as well as she could hear it in the space between them. Seconds passed, until finally Petyr removed his cock from her mouth, trails of saliva and come connected them. Convicting Sansa of the innocence she had lost.

               And would willingly lose again. And again.

               “Good girl,” he said, smiling. Letting his fingers lose themselves in her hair.

               Sansa beamed under his praise. _Gods_ , there was something about the affection that undid her just as much as when he plunged himself into her.

               His smile faded into her skin, lips tasting the line of her jaw. Traveling upward to the pulse point beside her ear. Bit the lobe softly. His breath tickled her skin. “Now, let’s see to your cunt, hm?"


End file.
